


The Dress

by cellard00rs



Category: Buzzfeed Multiplayer (Web Series), Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Dresses, F/M, Fluff, Humor, One Night Stands, Past Relationship(s), Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23320621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellard00rs/pseuds/cellard00rs
Summary: Kelsey Impicciche is going to blame the dress...
Relationships: Andrew Ilnyckyj/Kelsey Impicciche, Andrew Ilnyckyj/Steven Lim, Thespi Guatieri/Andrew Ilnyckyj
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	The Dress

It starts thanks to a New Year’s resolution and a dress.

…but mostly the dress.

Yeah, the dress – Kelsey Impicciche is going to blame the dress. And all subsequent dresses that have led to this. Not that ‘this’ is bad, no, ‘this’ is fantastic. ‘This’ is fantastic every single goddamn time and no, she won’t ever use that curse word aloud, but she can think it in her head, okay? Because, here’s the thing – the resolution?

It was simply to relax. To give up on some preconceived notions. To let herself live, really _live_. Growing up, she’d firmly adhered to the ‘wait until marriage’ rule. She'd clung to it and then proceeded to throw it all away for a man who ended up shattering her heart. So much so that it had taken her years and a very long, hard road before she’d considered herself recovered.

And after that, Kelsey swore – AGAIN – to wait. To wait, wait, wait. But this past New Year’s? Well, the resolution came to her. To just – blindly push past that. To embrace her inner Elsa and let it go. So, there she was – in the dress (the first dress, to be more specific) happily tipsy and with her friends and co-workers and there _he’d_ been.

Andrew Ilnyckyj.

And it’s like he’d taken the same resolution. To relax. To smile more. To be…fucking charming (again, she can _think_ it – not say it), _so_ fucking charming, _too_ fucking charming. And between the resolutions and the dress and the charming and the relaxing it had led to…well, it had led to ‘this’.

The first ‘this’.

‘This’ being sex.

She’d never had a one-night stand before. Never even thought she was the type to. Never even conceived, DREAMED, of herself doing…well…that. But then that turned into ‘this’, because the one-night stand? It became more than that.

Sure, it could’ve been just a one off. A messy, tumbling into her sheets after a whirlwind ride from an uber and he’d been very much the gentleman – he’d asked again and again if she was sure, because he didn’t want to take advantage of her and they _had_ been drinking but no, no she wanted to and…

Christ, her thoughts are a mess.

The point is – they had had a one-night stand, but then it…escalated.

Kelsey supposes she could also blame the damned video.

After all, it had been filmed only a day or two _after_ the one-night stand. A letter to her past and future self. A reminder of her past and why she’d made the damned resolution in the first place. Memories of the guy who she’d given her heart to, her body to, the one who’d hurt her and scarred her and…

Hell, she’d broken down crying about it on the channel. Bawled like a baby and Kelsey had been so ashamed, wanted to take it down, but she’d left it. Left it as a testament, because it encouraged her to continue to embrace her resolution even more firmly.

And maybe it was embracing that, that had led her to more of ‘this’. To more of Andrew. To making it less of a one-night stand and more of a…recurring affair. An _affair_. She was having an _affair_ , but not in the traditionally way, the cheating way.

No, this way was more in the vein of a regency romance novel – the fluttering of fans and swooning-at-the-scandal-of-it-all kind of way. A love affair. Although that wasn’t a word she was supposed to use, right? It was just sex. It was _sex_. Sex like adults have, like big, grown up girls who live in LA have, and she was on that level now, wasn’t she?

That’s certainly what Kelsey thought when the _next_ dress led to the _next_ ‘this’. She’d posted a picture of herself in a lovely red number while she’d been in Rome. And then, right after, she’d sent it to Andrew via text. His reply had been so glib and so him:

 **Nice dress**.

 **Thnx** **😉**. That’s what she’d typed in response. A normal response. A nice response. A very _Kelsey_ response. And then her fingers had defied her and quickly typed: **You should see what’s under it**.

Once sent, she’d wanted to die. She’d sat on the plane ride home, her face as red as the dress she’d worn.

And then:

**I’d like that.**

…was he joking? To say her heart had been in her throat at that moment would be a vast understatement. She’d stared at his response so hard she was thankful she was not, in fact, Supergirl (who she’d cosplayed before) because if she was, she would legitimately burn a hole right through her cell. Then, he’d sent another message:

**Where are you?**

Her gulp was audible. She knew it had to be. She looked around the plane to see if anyone heard it – they had had to have heard it! No one was reacting. Her fingers shook as she sent: **On a plane, coming back from Rome.**

**Text me when you’re back.**

A beat.

**When you’re ready.**

Another beat.

**Wear the dress, please.**

The thrill of heat that shot through her? Incendiary. Kelsey had never thought herself one of those hormonal types. You know, the ones who couldn’t control themselves sexually. Who went weak in the knees, who got wet at the drop of a hat, who panted like a dog in…yeah, she was one.

In that moment, she discovered she was one.

It was as if Andrew had a damned key to her libido and he’d just put it into her engine, gave it a good turn.

The moment she hit the tarmac, she found herself rushing. Rushing home, rushing to shower, rushing to calm down, rushing to throw the damned dress on and send another pic and say: **I’m ready**.

Apparently, he was too, because he was at her place in under an hour and that’s when her one-night stand became a two-night stand. Only to be followed by a three-night stand, then four, then five, then…

…and it was always at her place. And always dresses. She’d post them. On her Instagram, via text – she’d wear them in videos, on live streams – it became a secret signal. A code. If she was wearing a dress, it was a flag thrown down at his feet – a call for him to come over and…’this’. And, as before stated, each ‘this’ was better than the last.

Andrew knew his way around sex. Or maybe just around her. Maybe both. Regardless, he had that key and she was his engine and it was brilliant. She felt jubilant. Free. Flying colors and rainbows and stars and…

…oh, she was in so much trouble.

She knew that right after the red hair.

Kelsey had dyed it as part of her resolution. As part of her embracing life and she’d posted a picture of herself in a silky green top and there was no way to know whether or not it was a dress. But that night? That night he knocked on her door and he’d been standing there, eyes bright with desire when he asked in a rough timbre, “…did you call me?”

The moment she saw him, her breath was gone, her words coming out in a pant, “Did I-?”

He edged closer, not coming in, but right in her doorway, somehow big and powerful and causing her to melt because his voice was more a growl than anything else, “The picture, Kelsey. The green…”

“I…”

And then, as if he couldn’t help himself, his face wearing a mystified expression at his own actions, one of his hands rose up, fingers dancing over her hair, “…the red. I like it, Kelsey. It’s red. Like that first dress…”

“Second,” she whispered and he shook his head, “I don’t count New Year’s. Pretty pink, but that night was…more questionable.”

Her swallow was thick, her body throbbing, aching.

“…like the green. Was it a dress or-?”

Her answer was to tug him into the apartment. Hard. To throw her arms around his neck and drag his lips down to hers. The kiss was savage and hungry and it didn’t matter if the green was a dress or not. She was wearing something of a dress right then – a nightgown – one that he bunched up over her waist before turning her around, laying her gently over her kitchen island as he’d freed himself, as he’d surged into her from behind and oh god, the memory of it…

…that hadn’t been sex, so much as it had been fucking, and there was another thing. She’d never, in a million years, thought herself capable of that. But that’s what it’d been. His hands holding her hips, tugging her back against him roughly again and again as he steadily pumped in and out of her, and the sounds…the noise of slapping flesh and her high pitched cries of sheer pleasure and his hands edging up higher under the gown to cup her bare breasts and…

Again, ‘this’ was fantastic. Fantastic and increasingly messy. The last time, the one she’d labelled as ‘fucking’, probably should have been a wake-up call. She wasn’t that girl. That wasn’t how she thought of things, of sex. Sex was supposed to be sweet. Maybe a little energetic. Maybe a little wild. But not…

…he’d tugged at her hair. The memory made her shiver. One of his hands splaying out, fingers burying themselves deep, wrapping around her newly strawberry blonde curls and tugging her head back just slightly, arching her throat as he thrust deeper, harder…

Groaning, Kelsey rubs at her face. She should be ashamed. Horrified. After they’d done…that. It had taken her awhile to catch her breath. To come back down to earth. And when she had? He’d been lightly kissing her left shoulder. Then her right. And then he’d run both of his hands along her head as if he’d hurt her, as if to comfort her. Easing back and lowering her ruined gown, whispering, “You want to shower?”

They’d showered together before, after many previous ‘this’ encounters. No big deal. But this time when they climbed into her too small shower, he’d washed her. Carefully massaged shampoo into her hair, followed it with conditioner. Andrew ran her soapy bath sponge all along her body in this sweet, supporting way and then, once out, towel dried her clean.

Then he took Kelsey by one hand to her room, picked out a buttery soft sleep shirt and shorts, underwear. He’d helped her dress and it was quiet and sweet and intimate. It concluded with him tucking her in and kissing the top of her head, the center of her forehead, her lips before running a hand along one side of her face and breathing, “I’ll see myself out.”

Then he was gone.

And there was a new ache in her.

One that had nothing to do with ‘this’. Nothing to do with lust. Nothing to do with anything, but…

A love affair.

She’d thought that once. Swore to cut out the L-word. But that word…it couldn’t be cut anymore. And that’s why her thoughts are a mess and why she blames the resolution and the dress, because she can’t be, she just can’t be this stupid.

Kelsey Impicciche is a strong woman, a grown up LA Lady who can have sex and not attach emotion to it.

 _Yeah_ , Kelsey thinks bitterly as she hears the normal knock, as her heart leaps, _no emotion_.

This time the dress is white. White with little red flowers (Andrew likes red). She looked so happy when she posted it on Instagram. Happy, but with the side mention of being at home during a difficult situation. Ha! What a joke.

Opening the door, Andrew stands there – black shirt, blue jeans – stupidly attractive. She could almost hate him. He smiles, “You rang?”

Pleasure runs alongside a pang she ignores as she draws him in like she did the last time. Arms around his neck, lips meeting. Kelsey shuts the door behind him, turns them until her back is against a nearby wall and Andrew draws back, looks at her with heavy lidded eyes, “We doing this right away, huh?”

Kelsey doesn’t understand. They normally do. It’s what he wants, right? It’s what _she_ wants. What she wanted from the beginning. What she should still want. It should be this. Just this. Just sex. Again, she’s an adult, he’s an adult.

They’re shacking up, that’s all.

Having a fantastic time with each other and their young bodies and-and she doesn’t want to think anymore. ( _Please_ , wet heat pressing behind her eyelids as she closes her eyes tight and kisses him again, _please stop thinking, please stop thinking, please_ …)

He returns the kiss but his mouth is…so, so gentle. Soft. Tender. Andrew’s fingers dance along Kelsey’s hair, her face, and she doesn’t want that. No. Doesn’t think she can take it, so she nudges her hips against his, signals him to get on with it. And he takes the signal, but not the way she thinks he should. Andrew’s touch is light, airy, as it draws up Kelsey’s dress, finds her underwear and gently tugs them down her long legs and this is…slow, languid.

Andrew is taking his time. It’s almost as if he’s making love to her-

_No, no, no Kelsey! Grow up! Be an adult! People do this all the time. This is…this is nothing. This is an arrangement. You posted the picture, he took the signal, that’s how this works._

She undoes his belt, his jeans, button and zipper and they’ve done this dance before so it’s easy to get him free, to find him and he’s hard and full and ready and she rises up and Andrew helps, helps her rise higher until her legs are wrapped tight around his waist, until he’s embedded deep in her and the wall adds leverage, strength, but Andrew’s arm muscles still bulge as he helps support her weight, as he begins to move up higher and deeper within her.

Kelsey’s arms wrap tight around his shoulders, fingernails biting as he moves but his pace…again, it’s-it’s sweet. There’s no raw urgency. No wild pace. It’s just…slow. He’s taking his time. Yes, their movements cause the closest framed picture to thud rhythmically against the wall again and again but this is…it’s…

The heat behind Kelsey’s eyes is getting to be too much, too damp. Oh no, no, no…she’s going to _cry_. Andrew’s going to see tears escape, so she buries her face against his shoulder even as she lets out a deep moan of ecstasy because he’s…he’s _so_ good at this. So good at her. At taking her. And she never realized how empty she felt before him.

But Andrew fills her so well. He’s big, thick, but not overwhelmingly so. His cock moves within her, slick and perfect and her core tightens, her nipples tighten, and her mouth latches on to him, teeth digging into one side of his neck as she tries to muffle her cries – the first wave of her orgasm rippling over her. First being the operative word, because he doesn’t stop.

That’s the thing about Andrew. He’s like a machine. One that is set on satisfying her again and again, his pace picking up, but still oddly precise, methodical. Not slow, just…perfect. It brings her to another peak, more so as he eases her head back so his own lips can move to her neck and she wants him to cum. Needs him to cum. Kelsey feels like a wild, panicky thing in his embrace, the back of her skull meeting the wall behind her with a muted thump as his name escapes her in a desperate, gravely plea, “ _Andrew_.”

And _that’s_ what tips him over.

Suddenly the perfect pace breaks and Andrew’s a _beast_ , hips snapping up with eager abandon, the picture on the wall falling off with a loud crash, and hell, Kelsey might just go _through_ the wall as her third climax thunders throughout her body, stealing her mind, her sanity, a scream of pure bliss ripping from her throat to echo throughout her entire apartment (and possibly her entire apartment complex) as he finally succumbs.

The feel of his release, the heat of it, she lets out a weak wail, tears escaping whether she wants them to or not because yes, yes – this is what she wants. Him. She wants _him_. Andrew falls against Kelsey, panting and slick with sweat and they’re both more or less clothed and she just…runs her fingers through his golden hair and loves him.

 _She loves him_.

And that’s stupid.

Ridiculous.

She can’t possibly…

A sniffle escapes and he draws back; he looks at her with concern and she just shakes her head. He lowers her carefully, lets her unwrap her legs from around him, lets her set her dress to rights even as he tucks himself away, returns himself to some semblance of decent before turning away, not looking at her as he hoarsely asks, “So…you have a crush.”

Kelsey’s gaze shoots up to his in alarm and he shrugs, turning to face her again, looking boyish even as he’s flushed with afterglow, “Watched your latest video.”

She shakes her head, confused and dismayed, even as he continues, “Single girl reveals a secret crush?”

 _Shit_! The thought is venomous. Damn their viewers for that question. Damn luck for giving it to her. Damn Jared for pushing the issue. Heat suffuses under her skin just like it did that day when asked about it. A crush. That’s what she had tried to boil it down to.

Over time it had become harder and harder to convince herself she was an adult who could just have a no strings attached sexual relationship. Not that she hadn’t been trying! But since it couldn’t possibly be love, she had thought – okay, maybe this is just a crush. A crush seemed reasonable. A crush seemed not far-fetched.

After all, she DID know him as a person. True, they’d never been on an actual, proper date, but they at least _knew_ one another. They had worked together, hung out at parties – thinking of it as a crush was totally conceivable.

Because she couldn’t love him. Despite her thoughts just a few minutes ago, despite the emotion that invoked something like tears (it wasn’t tears, it wasn’t) she knew then as she knows now that she can’t love him, because there’s been no chance to create that semblance of feeling. Their relationship, their arrangement, was purely sexual.

It wasn’t as if they’d shared their deepest, darkest secrets with one another – not as if they’d confided their life stories and little tidbits of information about themselves like people in regular relationships did. They had simple shared their bodies – so, Kelsey concluded it was a crush and – when asked by fans and then pressed (by stinkin’ _Jared_ ) she’d conceded. What could be the harm? And then Andrew speaks the harm, “Someone with a ‘D’?”

 _FUCK_!

Again, merely thought – not said aloud.

Her skin is so hot now, it’s probably _glowing_ red, “Oh, huh…huh, yeah. Uh huh, uh huh,” (she’s giggling and rambling – wonderful), “It…you know,” (she flaps her hands uselessly), “It was just a silly game…”

“First name or last?”

Kelsey blinks.

“The name of your secret crush. Does it begin with a ‘D’ or end with one or is it in there in some combination of-?”

“It’s nothing!” her voice squeaks AND cracks and she buries her face in her hands, feels the pure heat of her face, “It-It was just a silly game. A stupid video…”

“There’s a ‘D’ in my name.”

It’s said so softly. With just the barest hint of insecurity. Kelsey parts the fingers over her face where her right eye lies and she can see him. He’s not looking at her again. His face cast to one side, but she catches a slight tick in his jaw, his arms folded, “And…been known to be called ‘Drew’ before,” after a short beat he adds, “On occasion…for short.”

Her hands run their length down her face, palms resting on her throat as fingers wrap themselves around the back of her neck and Kelsey can feel her muscles work as she gulps, “And-and if it was?”

The air between them is tense. Kelsey’s heard that expression about a million times: tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. She’s always thought of it as a flowery description. A fancy phrase. It’s not anymore. It’s reality. _This_ reality. _Her_ reality, as she waits, air pent up in her lungs, blood frozen but heart thundering hard in her chest as she waits or maybe he waits or…

“Then…I’d…I’d like that.”

Kelsey’s hands fall away, blue eyes impossibly wide as Andrew finally turns and looks at her, looks at her with one corner of his mouth twisting as if to smile, “See, I got a crush on a girl whose name begins with ‘K’-”

Maybe he was going to say more. Maybe he wasn’t. There’s a sound coming from Andrew that sounds like it’s going to become a word, but it never manages to get out because Kelsey rushes to him with a relieved sob, arms wrapping around him as she kisses him. And he kisses back, his own arms rising up to crush her close and dear and…

…and this kiss is completely different from any other kiss they’ve shared. His fingers twist in her hair again, they’re desperate again – but it’s a different kind of desperation. A relieved one. A romantic one. Andrew is clinging to her as if she’s precious to him and Kelsey is clinging to him as if he’s the only one she wants and that’s fitting because it’s…true.

A fantastic true. A fantastic ‘ _this’_.

When they finally part, Kelsey promptly bursts into tears and Andrew looks so aghast she can’t help but let out a wobbly laugh, presses a hand to her mouth, “I’m sorry, this-these are _happy_ tears. I swear. I’m-I’m so, _so_ happy but I’m-I’m just emotional, I just…I wanted this so much and…”

Andrew’s face clears, becomes understanding, “Yeah, I get it. I mean, not-not ‘crying’ into it, but…”

“I’m a crier,” she rubs at the corner of her eyes even as she shakes her head, “You should probably know that about me…”

“I do,” he affirms, “But…yeah, I guess on a personal level, I’ll have to become more acquainted with it. I mean…I know we started this off sort of…uh, unorthodox…”

Kelsey hopes her eyes aren’t too puffy or red as she sniffles, “You mean a one-night stand that led to booty calls and-?”

“Surprised you even know what that is…”

Another watery laugh, “Of course, I know!” the next head shake is even more rueful than the last, “More to learn about me…”

He takes her hands in his, squeezes them as he looks into her eyes and oh, looking into her eyes like a Disney Prince is so not fair, more so when it’s followed by an earnest, “But I want to.”

“D-Do you?” _And oh boy, Kelsey, stop being so insecure – this is why you’ve been the single girl so long_ …

“Yeah,” he looks up surreptitiously from under his eyelashes, “How about you?”

Kelsey can only manage a hum of sound.

“You sure you want to learn more about me?”

She opens her mouth to answer but he cuts her off firmly, “‘Cause I’m not…the easiest person to like. I’m…sort of a weirdo. Odd. I was the creepy guy at Buzzfeed for a reason and I…I haven’t had much luck with relationships…”

Kelsey opens her mouth again, closes it again. There had been rumors. About him and Steven. And everyone knew about him and Thespi. Considering how their interactions had been going, she’d never had a chance to ask him about his New Year’s resolution. About his…well, his everything. But she wanted to. Emphatically. And now she can say as such, “I do, Andrew.”

The doubt is written all over his face, but their hands are still close, so she wraps hers around his and gives them the same squeeze he gave her, “Trust me. I’m not the easiest person to like either. Remember, I’m the single girl at Buzzfeed for a reason.”

This gets a chuckle from him, “Well, aren’t we the pair?”

Kelsey smiles – she _finally_ smiles, because it feels like forever since she last did and meant it – as she softly says, “Yeah. We are,” then she waits before adding, “‘A pair’…I like the sound of that…”

“Think I do too, although…” he looks thoughtful, “I guess I should ask you out now. On a date. A real date. Not just…” he lifts one shoulder and lets it drop, “…dresses.”

Kelsey can’t help but laugh at that and she laughs even more when he adds, “Speaking of, think you better wear jeans on our date. I’ve found I have a very…visceral reaction to you in a dress.”

“Okay, okay,” she promises even as she can’t help herself by drawing him in again for another kiss and then another and then another and then…

Then next year, next New Year’s, next resolution – she doesn’t blame the dress. She thanks it. Thanks it for him. Thanks it for leading them to what is (sort of) their one year anniversary and beyond. Honestly, Kelsey can’t wait to see all the dresses in her future and for Andrew’s part? Neither can he.

**Author's Note:**

> This story references a LOT of Kelsey's instagram and videos but I am - in no way - saying the previous events are true. Not that I think anyone would ever accuse me of being delusional, but I'd like it well understood that I merely took some posts and videos and created a very fictitious tale. 
> 
> In that same vein, I didn't really mention protection within this story, but would like to remark that safe sex is the best sex - so, use the pill, use condoms - all that jazz. These are some old timey notes, aren't they? Like LJ/Fanfiction.net level...still, better safe than sorry! 
> 
> Also, I MAY follow this up with this same story but from Andrew's POV...mainly because I HAVE thought about what's going on in his head during all this. We'll see.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the story and feel free to visit my tumblr [cellard0ors](https://cellard0ors.tumblr.com/)


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